Bound (21 page)

Grief was a hell of a thing. Some days you climbed the walls and others you couldn’t get out of bed
. Just when you thought you might be pulling through, something would punch you in the gut and you’d be flat on your back again. I’d gone through it with Maggie. It wasn’t because I was lost without her; I just felt an overwhelming guilt that our short, rocky marriage was the only one she’d ever have.

A hard jab in my side made me turn to Luke.

“What?” I mumbled.

Luke clea
red his throat and I glanced at the reporter, who was looking at me and waiting for an answer to a question I hadn’t heard.

“Sorry, man, what was that?” I asked.

“The billboard that just went up downtown with your underwear ad. Are you getting any flack from the other guys about it?”

I smiled and rubbed my unshaven jaw line. “Uh . . . I haven’t seen it, but yeah, I’m sure they’ll have a few things to say.”

The reporter left and I went to the locker room to change out of my practice clothes. The room was filled with energy because the preseason was starting, and we all wanted to get back to it. The offseason was always a good break, but I was happiest when I was playing hockey.

I left the locker room to go to the front office, but stopped
in the hallway when Luke yelled after me.

“Hey,” he said, still in his
sweat-stained practice clothes. “What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing. I’m fine.”

“Bullshit. I’ve known you for three years, man. Is it Kate?”

I shook my head and looked away. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Luke shifted and ran a hand through his hair. “Look, I’m just . . . kinda worried about you.”

“What are you, my wife?” I laughed and shoved his shoulder.

“You’re hiding behind sarcasm right now,” he said, folding his arms.

“Jesus Christ, you’re banging that shrink again, aren’t you?” I rolled my eyes. He’d psycho-analyze all of us now.

Luke said nothing, which made it harder to avert his questions. I blew out a breath and gave in. “Yeah, it’s Kate. I should be excited for the season to start, as hard as I trained all summer. But you know how it is . . . you’ve got no time for a relationship during the season.”

“A lot of people make it work, man.”

“Yeah, well, Maggie just about drove me over the edge. You probably don’t know it, but—”

Luke scoffed. “I know. She was paranoid and you guys fought all the time cause she accused you of cheating every time we left town.”

“I never told—”

“You never had to, Ryke. We were there when you took calls from her sometimes. You couldn’t stay out late because you always had to be back at your hotel before you called her or she’d flip out. We all knew.”

I pushed down this new knowledge. What the hell did it matter now anyway? “Yeah, so anyway . . . I’m not doing that shit again with Kate. I learned my lesson.”

“Maybe you should give Kate a chance,” Luke said.

“I don’t even know if she wants to be with me.” I leaned my back against the concrete brick wall. “And even if she did, it wouldn’t be fair to her. She deserves more than I’ve got to give.”

“Listen, man, there are lots of guys in the league with good relationships. It’s possible. Look at Vic and Dawn.”

Luke’s effort to counsel me put a smile on my face. “Yeah, I don’t know. I have to get up to the office, but thanks. You’re a good wife.”

He flipped me off and I turned to leave.
As much as I hated the thought of hockey coming between me and Kate, part of me was excited about the thought of her watching me play. I was at my best on the ice. If I could persuade her to come to a game, maybe it would even turn her on. A lot of women said it did. Kate wasn’t as easy as most women, though.

***

Kate

I hiked the canvas bag over my shoulder and chided myself for waiting so long to check Ryke’s post office box. It had been more than full, with a giant tote of extra mail I’d had to stuff into the bag. So I’d be answering fan mail today.

It was an easy job, really. I usually sent an autographed photo of Ryke with a note of thanks for the letter. I always downplayed the amount of letters and their messages of adoration to Ryke, because really, his ego didn’t need inflating.

“Wow,” Mimi said as I dropped the bag to the floor with a
thunk
.

“Yeah,” I said, sighing.

“I can help when I get this soup put together.”

“If you’ve got time, I’d appreciate it.” I dragged the bag across the floor and tipped it over an area rug. A waterfall of letters cascaded out and I sat down to sort them.

I had them divided into packages, letters from kids and other letters when Mimi joined me on the rug.

“I like to do the kid ones first,” I said.

“Writing back to kids sounds like fun,” Mimi said, reaching for a letter and tearing it open.

“It is. I had one last week from a little boy who asked Ryke to be his best friend.”

“Aww.” Mimi put a hand on her chest
as she read. “It says ‘I love hockey’, but it’s spelled H-O-K-E-Y. And then it says ‘You are awesome’, but it’s spelled A-W-S-U-M. What should I do with it?”

“I’ve got a letter that Ryke signed that I send to kids,” I said, handing her a sheet. “It’s about getting good grades and all. And they get a signed photo, too.”

“Is everything okay with you?” Mimi asked, her gaze focused on the letter she was working on.

“As okay as usual,” I said, sighing.
She met my eyes with a warm smile. We’d gotten close from being together so much.

“Anything to do with our favorite hockey player?” she asked lightly.

I laughed and shook my head. “That obvious, huh?”

“I see the two of you together every morning. I know something’s up.”

“I’ll let you do the kid letters and I’ll work on this stack,” I said, reaching for a large manila envelope. “I don’t know what’s up with me and Ryke. I like him, but—”

I stopped
talking and furrowed my brows when I felt something silky in the envelope. My mouth dropped open when I pulled out a tiny, lacy black thong. I held it up and Mimi stifled a laugh.

“This,” I said, rolling my eyes. “This is the problem with me and Ryke. He’s a hockey God and I’m just an average girl.”

“He’s very down-to-earth for someone famous. And you don’t give yourself enough credit. You’ve got a lot going for you. You’re smart, beautiful and kind-hearted.”

“I’m not feeling kind-hearted right now,” I said. “I’d like to write this girl a letter and tell her what she can do with her panties.”

Mimi’s face creased with confusion and amusement. “Did she send a letter? Or just the panties?”

I reached back into the envelope and unfolded a pink piece of paper, doing my best dumb bitch voice. “Ryke – I wore these to a game and wanted you to have them. Eww!” I
tossed them aside, looked at the hand I’d held them with and cringed. “I need to wash my hands.”

S
crubbing lemon soap into my hands at the kitchen sink, I shook my head with disgust. Why was I mad at Ryke over the panties? It wasn’t his fault some crazy chick mailed him her worn thong. But it ate at me anyway. Even though I wasn’t ready to sleep with him, I didn’t need to be reminded how many other women wanted to.

***

Ryke and Luke both sat on the edge of the couch, completely absorbed in the video game they were playing. I didn’t know much about video games, but could tell the point of this one was to shoot everyone in sight.

“Asshole,” Ryke mu
ttered, elbowing Luke. I shifted in my seat, trying to see them from the kitchen table, where I was reading a magazine.

They’d been at it for more than an hour while Ryke waited for his parents to call when their plane landed at O’Hare. He was going to pick them up
as soon as he heard from them.

“Fuck you, Ryker!” Luke yelled, shoving Ryke’s shoulder. Ryke laughed and pushed him back. I
rolled my eyes and looked back down to the article I was reading about facials made with household ingredients.

A grunt and a muffled thud
made me look back up, and my mouth dropped open when I saw Luke on top of Ryke on the couch. Ryke’s hand wrapped around Luke’s shoulder and shoved him up, and they both tumbled to the ground.

They punched and rolled, and I couldn’t tell whose grunts and curses were whose. I jumped up from the table and ran over, feeling like I had to do something.

“You guys!” I yelled from a few feet away. “Ryke!”

They were wedged against the coffee table
and they both paused to look up at me. Ryke climbed off of Luke and stood.

“It’s fine
,” he said. “We do this all the time.”

“Someone’s gonna get hurt!” I felt like my mom as I scolded them.

“This is how guys are.” Ryke flopped back to the couch. “If you dated real men you’d know that.”

I gaped at him as he grabbed his controller and Luke got up from the floor. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It’s nothing against you,” Ryke said, his eyes meeting mine. “You’ve just dated pansies.”

“How would you know anything about who I’ve dated?”

“You told me about Quinn, and I gather he’s your type.”

My heart pounded as I looked at him, anger rising inside me. “My type?”

“Yeah, you know, the sensitive sort that can quote Keats or whatever.”

I laughed and shook my head. “I guess if you’re saying my type is intelligent men who don’t have fist fights with their friends over video games, then you’re right.”

“Real men fight, Kate.” The game was loading, and Ryke was still looking at me. There was something about his eyes that made me feel warm and restless.

“That’s just a cliché,” I said, my voice more confident than I felt.

Now it was him laughing as he shook his head at me. “It’s not. Real men don’t read books to relieve tension. We either fight or fuck.”

“That doesn’t even make sense,” I said, turning to walk back to the table. My insides felt like jelly.

“It’s impossible to be tense after a good fight or a long night of fucking,” he said. “And real men fuck better than your type, too, by the way.”

I glared in his direction and
sat back down. “Yeah, and they forget your name by mid-morning the next day.”

Luke piped up from the other side of the couch. “I wo
uldn’t forget your name.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Ryke said. I could see the tension in his jaw even from across the room.

“I’m just saying, man. Girl needs to see what a real man can do to her. You ever had two on one, Kate?”

“What’s your fucking problem?” Ryke yelled at him. “
Don’t say shit like that to her!”

Luke smirked and raised his hands in mock surrender and I rolled my eyes, knowing Ryke was about to jump him again. The ding of a text coming in on Ryke’s phone sounded from the kitchen
.

“Will you grab that, Kate?” Ryke asked. I went to retrieve his phone and heard him talking to Luke in a low, angry hiss.

“Sorry I offered to fuck you, Kate
,” Luke yelled toward the kitchen, not sounding sorry at all.

“It’s fine,” I said, still looking at my magazine as I carried over the phone. “Here, Ryke.”

“Just read it. Is it my mom?” he asked as he input something with his video game controller. I looked down at the screen, the words making heat rush to my cheeks.

“No, it’s ‘Dallas Candy’,” I said, an edge in my tone. “She says, ‘
I dreamed about your big dick last night’.”

Luke choked on a laugh and
Ryke sighed deeply. I held the phone out to him, my brows arched in judgment.

“Shit,” Ryke muttered as he took th
e phone. “That’s nothing, Kate.”

“It’s none of my business,” I said sharply, crossing my arms. “But seriously? Dallas Candy? Is she a stripper? I hope you use condoms.”

“There are lots of women named Candy,” he said, not looking at me.

“Is Dallas her last name?”

There was a moment of silence before the sound of Luke’s muffled laugher forced me to look at the other end of the couch. His face was stuffed into the edge of the couch, but if he was trying to laugh quietly, it wasn’t working.

“Get the fuck out of here,
you prick,” Ryke grumbled, tossing his game controller at Luke’s back. Luke rolled off the edge of the coach and walked out, still laughing and not looking back.

“I have errands,” I said, heading toward my purse on the kitchen counter.

“No, you don’t.” Ryke was on my heels.

“
I do.” I slung my purse over my shoulder and pushed my sunglasses on. “I was just reading this article about facials and I want to go get the stuff to make one.”